


A Concrete Rash

by Megalomaniacal



Series: sick of living in the eye of the storm [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 22:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalomaniacal/pseuds/Megalomaniacal
Summary: “Don’t you love me? You said forever, remember? You said forever.”





	A Concrete Rash

He’d prayed every night for the Drowned God to bring his brothers back, if only so that he could have his mother hold him in her arms and sing to him one more time. 

Theon always hated his brothers and he hadn’t shed a tear when they’d died- not for them at least. He had cried when he realized his mom wasn’t acting normal. She didn’t come home and call him her darling boy, she didn’t dance around the house with him, didn’t pick him up and kiss his forehead and play with his hair. She just sat in her chair in her bedroom and stared out the window. As if Rodrik or Maron would drive up at any time. As if they hadn’t both been killed while on duty. As if they hadn’t already watched their bodies being lowered into the ground. 

He was only eight, and he had lost his mother. His father was cold to him before, but even more so after his brothers died. Yara didn’t ever want to talk to him. He’d crawl into his mother’s lap, look at her face, shake her shoulders and beg, beg for her to say something, for her to sing or hug him or even cry, as long as it was something. But she just stared blankly out the window. 

He had one memory in particular, one night that stood out as the night he finally realized his mother was gone for good. 

It was a few months after Rodrik and Maron had died, and Theon spent his time wandering aimlessly around the empty, silent house. Balon was always at work and Yara wanted nothing to do with him. 

He went to bed one night after school, just a normal night, grabbing something to microwave for dinner, bathing himself, dressing himself, and going to bed. Tucking himself in. He slept peacefully for a while before the nightmare started. He was thrashing in his bed, sheets a tangled mess, his breathing fast and frantic. He woke up in a cold sweat, tears pouring down his cheeks as he scrambled out of bed and ran out of his room. He didn’t think, he just ran to his parents room. His mother was asleep in her chair by the window. He froze for a minute, slowly remembering how his mother hadn’t been responding to him lately. 

His fear overpowered his hesitation and he ran for her, climbing up onto her lap, shaking her until she slowly opened her eyes. 

She was awake, but she wasn’t looking at him. 

“Mama!” He sobbed, clenching her shirt in his fists and shaking, shaking, shaking. “Mama, mama, please! I’m so scared, mama, I had a nightmare, mama, please look at me, please come back!” He was being loud, his voice desperate and high-pitched. “Mama, I miss you, please, I miss you!” 

Nothing in her face changed, and her gaze remained trained out the window. 

Theron’s sobbing grew louder, more powerful, hiccups between each cry. “Mama I need you! I’m your baby! Y-your darling boy! Mama, please, mama!” 

“Theon?” Balon’s voice, harsh and uncaring, came from the bed. “What are you doing in here?”

Theon didn’t answer him, still sitting on his mother’s lap, shaking her and sobbing. “Mama, mama, mama,” He sobbed, wanting so badly for her to just look at him. “Mama, don’t you love me anymore? Don’t you love me? You said forever, remember? You said forever a-and ever and ever and ever! F-forever! Mama, please, please!” 

“Theon!” His father’s voice was louder, booming, but it only made Theon sob harder, begging becoming babbling, growing harder and harder to understand. 

He buried in face against his mom’s chest, shaking like a leaf in her lap, too caught up in his own fear and despair to hear as Balon stormed out of bed and across the room toward him. He was suddenly lifted off his mother’s lap as he sobbed in protest, trying to keep holding on to her shirt. He couldn’t holding for long, his father was so much stronger, and he found himself dropped on the floor outside of the bedroom door, sobbing and wailing and pounding his fists against the door until his knuckles bled and his voice gave out. Yara was the one who came out, who picked him up and brought him to sleep in her bed. 

He never went crying to his mother again.


End file.
